The Ties That Bind
by cate's corner
Summary: A multi chapter story, based on the "Impressions" audio book. Evan Lorne risked everything to save that alien child. Now, he has to face the consequences.
1. Chapter 1  Repercussions

The Ties That Bind by catescorner

They say a change is as good as a rest. I think the same applies to writing fanfiction! I'm taking a break from the one shots for a while, and this is my first attempt at a multi chapter story for SGA. I hope you'll enjoy it. I've certainly had a great time writing it!

The story is already complete, and it will be in five chapters, so I'll be posting each one through the next five days. It's rather unusual, too, because it isn't based on any episode at all. Instead, it's set before, during, and after, the events in the audio book Impressions, wonderfully told by Kavan Smith. If only TPTB had given us this as a proper episode for Lorne!

Ah well, enough of the might have beens - after all, that's what fanfic was invented for! So with some good old whumpage to start, here we go with chapter one. And as anyone who's heard this brilliant CD will know, our favourite Major is in a whole lot of trouble.

Enjoy!

The Ties That Bind

Chapter One - Repercussions

His senses still reeling, John Sheppard raised himself to his knees, squinting instinctively around him. Whatever had just hit him, and right now it felt like a damn bus, had flattened everyone else too. Everyone, that is, except the dishevelled figure who now stood, yet again, on a dangerously unstable balcony.

Oh, crap! Not again!

Every instinct he had was compelling him to yell his name. Pure dread persuaded him not to. If Evan Lorne reacted as irrationally as he'd done already today, as dangerously unpredictably, then – well, if he fell this time, without that entity's intervention to save him, there'd be no chance for his survival. Instead, John staggered back to his feet and made his way, as calmly as he could, to his XO's side – alarm overriding all trace of anger, and shock taking the place of both, at the state he was in.

Blood was caked in thick crusts across his face. Mad swathes of paint covered the gaps in between. It was his eyes, though, that pulled John Sheppard up short, and made him stare in horrified dismay. They were empty. All the mischievous brightness, that normally brought such life to them, was gone.

He was starting to sway now, staring at the gun in his hand, then just as blankly back at his CO. After seconds that felt like hours, he clicked on the safety, before holding it out in shaky surrender – mumbling something, just one word, over and over again, but one that still took John Sheppard several seconds to make out.

"S – S'rry…"

Then his legs buckled, and he dropped like a stone, deadweight and lifeless, into his CO's arms –

"_Lorne_! Damn it, _Evan_!"

– oblivious to the anxious yells of his name, and the flurry of activity, that now erupted around him. First to his side was Kate Heighmeyer, calling for the medical team who'd instinctively followed her.

"His vitals are through the roof, he's burning out. We need to get him to the Infirmary, _now_!"

Long before that order was finished, several pairs of hands had joined hers around Evan's body – moving in gentle, practised union to lift him from John Sheppard's arms onto the gurney alongside. A few vital seconds, while an oxygen mask was fitted, and IV ports inserted, then he was on his way – pulled at full speed towards the Infirmary, while John and Kate ran in protective escort beside him.

By the time they reached it, the doors were already open, Keller waiting to meet them – leading her team in, to seamlessly take over, as Evan's gurney swept past them into the treatment bay. And while it pained John Sheppard to do so, he knew he had no choice now, but to step away. This was _her_ domain now, not his. His second in command's life rested, solely, in her hands.

Instead, he stood next to an equally shaken Carter, feeling as powerless to help him as she did. Not just on the medical side either, but from the _other_ repercussions that would now surely follow.

The best XO he'd ever had, who covered his six better than anyone else he'd ever known, had gone off the deep end. Completely flipped. He'd disobeyed orders. Held a gun on his colleagues, his friends, _and_ his commanding officer. However noble his intentions, he'd put Atlantis, and the whole expedition, at inexcusable risk.

From that alone, John knew that Evan Lorne's career now rested in as precarious a balance as his life. At best, he'd face a full enquiry into his conduct. At worst, he'd face the shame of a full court martial. And with so much evidence against him, that could not be held back, the results would be devastating. Years of service, the countless lives he'd saved, with no thought for his own, would count for nothing.

Just days ago, it was a thought that no one on Atlantis, certainly not his CO, had ever considered. Now, though, as he met Sam Carter's eyes and saw the sadness inside them, John Sheppard knew. She had no choice but to make that call to the SGC, and set that unthinkable scenario into motion.

More immediately, Jennifer Keller had now left her team, and was striding briskly back towards them – the relief on her face easing at least some of their concern, with the news they all needed to hear.

"We've managed to get him stabilised, and he's out of danger. He's going to be alright."

Even through her smile, though, Jennifer knew that last part only covered his medical status – two still grim faces, and the request that her patient had just made of her, causing it to sadly fade.

"I've given him a light sedative to help him sleep, but… Colonel Sheppard, he's asking for you."

Watching his surprise, Jennifer then sighed, confirming what all three of them already knew.

"He knows, Colonel. He's lucid again, and he knows."

Wincing even more, John glanced briefly back at Sam, before following Jennifer to Evan's bed, nodding his agreement to her final, gentle order as she moved some more screens towards it.

"Not too long, okay? He needs to rest."

Nodding once more, John took a deep breath, then stepped through them with a _very_ heavy heart.


	2. Chapter 2 Damage Control

The Ties That Bind by catescorner

Well, that's a lovely start! Thanks for the reviews, they've been much appreciated.

As promised, here's today's chapter, which finds poor Evan facing a _very_ uncertain future. For all you angst fans, you'll find plenty of it here. I hope you enjoy!

The Ties That Bind

Chapter Two - Damage Control

The blood and paint were gone. For just that improvement, John Sheppard was genuinely grateful. Washed free of it, his hair still damp, messily tousled, Evan Lorne finally looked human again. Now he just had to get used to the oxygen mask that still rested on top of an alarmingly gaunt face. Try to ignore the IV lines, and the screens, and the monitors, that surrounded Evan's bed.

Within it, he suddenly looked so small, so unnaturally vulnerable. Powerless to defend himself. And those eyes, John noted through even greater dismay, were still void of all expression.

Well no, not quite. There _was_ something within them. Something that he wasn't used to seeing. Hopelessness. Defeat. Resignation that the battle was lost, and there was no point in fighting it further.

Damn it, yeah, he knew alright, and John Sheppard's spirits fell even further through his boots. He didn't know whether to smile with pride, or wince with dismay, at the whisper that finally greeted him.

"Is – Is everyone okay? Did – Did I hurt anyone?"

Wishing the holders of his fate could see _this_ side of Evan Lorne, John forced himself to smile back, giving his XO's shoulder as firm a squeeze as he dared while he pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Yeah, Evan, we're all fine," he said at last, gently placing the oxygen mask back onto Evan's face. "And you need to keep this on, okay? Just rest now, let _me_ do the talking."

Not daring to defy any more orders than he had already, Evan nodded, staying meekly quiet. His eyes were full of emotions now. Pain. Fear. Guilt. Despair. All of them conveyed everything that he wanted to say, and that neither of them wanted to believe.

'_I_'_m_ _finished._'

Right now, that looked inevitable. But John Sheppard didn't want to believe that. Not now. Not ever. And if his second didn't have the strength to fight that battle alone - well, he'd just have to accept a little help. John knew that every person on Atlantis, military and otherwise, would fight like hell to keep Evan Lorne's place among them. Leader to some, he was a friend to everyone else. Always there to offer advice and encouragement, to anyone who needed it. Life without him, personally and professionally, was simply unthinkable.

"Look, Evan, I know how bad this looks," he said at last, giving Evan's arm a gently rallying shake. "But whatever happens, I'm right with you, okay? We _all_ are. We're gonna fight this with you, Evan, every step of the way, okay?"

He'd hoped for a nod, or a smile. Some kind of positive sign that Evan Lorne had believed him. But the sedatives were taking effect now, pulling him away at the worst possible moment – perversely taking all hope for that sign with them, as Evan drifted into badly needed, but lousily timed sleep.

Watching anxiously over him, John felt helpless frustration rise up within him, into outright anger. Damn it, Evan Lorne didn't deserve this. He shouldn't be facing such an unjust end to his career.

As sleep denied him the chance to fight against it, John now set out to find someone else who could – not so much striding into Sam Carter's office, more blasting through it like a human tornado. Knowing better than to try to stop him, Sam sat quietly at her desk, waiting for the fury to subside, waiting until he stopped circling her office, and sank onto a nearby chair, before she quietly spoke.

"How is he?"

"Sleeping. That sedative kicked in pretty fast," John sighed, his voice still dangerously quiet – not just from the anger that Sam had expected, but the crushing disappointment for its lousy timing. "We didn't have much time to talk, but he's… he's down, Sam. He's given up already, and that - that isn't the Evan Lorne I know. He doesn't give up on _anything_."

Tiredly rubbing his eyes, he needed some good news right now. More than he'd ever needed it before. When he finally took his hand away, he found it in a cautious smile that made him sit up again – fresh hope running away with him, overwhelming all thought of red tape and bureaucratic protocol.

"You – You haven't told them? We can deal with this ourselves, right?"

"No, John. No, I've still made that call," Sam replied, holding up her hand to stop the inevitable protest. "John, you know as well as I do that we _can_'_t_ handle this internally, however much we want to."

Knowing there was no point arguing, John stood up and started prowling round her office again, making several circuits, before he stopped beside her desk, frowning at the gentle smile he found there. She'd clearly found a possible solution to the dilemma that had left her hands helplessly tied, and John visibly brightened. This fight might just be winnable after all.

"I don't want to lose him either, John. I need him _here_, as much as you do," she said at last, taking a deep breath, knowing how he'd likely react to the plan that just might save a friend's career. "And there might be a way. He has rights too, that we can take for him, before any court martial can take place. We can get him appraised, independently, by a _civilian_ psychiatrist."

For several moments, John stared back at her, as though _she_ were the one who needed that appraisal. Then, at last, he smiled and nodded, with a glint in his eye that Sam Carter knew only too well. John Sheppard's courage was legendary. So were his means of sometimes _dubious_ persuasion.

"Okay, I'll get onto that now," she went on, fixing him with as stern a glare as she could manage. "Just one thing, John. When he gets here, _no_ undue pressure, and _no_ intimidation. Okay?"

"Never dream of it," John grinned, bouncing back to his feet with a new sense of hopeful purpose – waiting until he was safely outside, away from his CO's earshot, before adding a smug afterthought.

"That's what I've got Ronon for."


	3. Chapter 3 Know Thine Enemy

The Ties That Bind by catescorner

Aww, more reviews! Thank you!

As I said in my first writer note, this story is based before, during, and after, the events in Impressions. This chapter leads into those events, ending with Dr Glennie's arrival at Evan's quarters. Before he gets there, though - well, he has to get through John Sheppard first. And we all know how protective Shep can be, especially when people he cares about are being threatened.

You'll have gathered from this, and my other stories, that I've made John a few years older than Evan. But I've noticed on another website that they're supposed to be the same age, with only one month's difference between them. I can't remember that ever being established as canon in the series, and John has always struck me as being slightly older. So apologies if I'm wrong, and breaking canon here, but in my stories, there'll always be that big brother/little brother relationship between them. It just seems to suit them both so well.

Speaking of accuracy, I hope I've kept to it in this chapter. Since the paintings seem to be in Evan's quarters the whole time, and he shows them to Dr Glennie during their interview, I'm fairly sure that he's confined there after his arrest, rather than being sent to the brig. Wherever he is, though, he's in _serious_ trouble - and John's about to realize that he has a real fight on his hands to get him out of it.

Enjoy!

The Ties That Bind

Chapter Three - Know Thine Enemy

John Sheppard had grown up with a natural ability to read people. Their faces. Body language. And while Dr David Glennie bore all the hallmarks of an English professor, all genteel politeness – no, despite that charmingly friendly exterior, John still knew he'd come here with a job to do. He had to determine if Evan Lorne was mentally fit for the career that he'd sworn his life to uphold. A career that he loved, that he'd been born for. A predestined calling that had almost killed him too, more times than John could remember.

A complete stranger now held that career in his hands. His decision would be clinically pivotal. For the commanding officer, and friend, who dreaded its outcome, it was still hard to accept.

Under Sam Carter's watchful eye, he was giving Glennie his statement, as calmly as he could. He still wished she'd allowed him to bring Ronon in, for some gently influential support. When this mess was over, he'd have to brush up on his stealth training. Maybe work a bit more on his famous '_who_, _me_?' face. When he'd needed it the most, it had let him down. Sam Carter had seen straight through it.

Still, he could be pretty intimidating himself, when he had to be. McKay had told him one time, it was all in his eyes. So throughout their interview, he'd held David Glennie's square in their sights – leaving him, in no doubt whatsoever, that his loyalties lay squarely with his second in command.

"Evan Lorne is the best XO I've ever had. I have _complete_ faith in his judgement."

Glennie's eyes widened at that. Then he smiled, with a benevolence that would put a hungry crocodile at a crowded waterhole to shame.

"Despite his actions, Colonel? Defying _your_ orders? The fact that he held you, _and_ Colonel Carter here, at gunpoint? I would hardly call those the actions of a sane and reliable person, let alone a military second in command."

Caught rarely wrong footed, John could only stare back at him, mortified by his failure to spot the trap that Glennie had so cleverly steered him into. Damn it, he'd walked straight into it. If Evan were here, he'd have seen this a mile off, stopped him, and – _damn it_! Far from helping his friend, John now realized his own loyalty had just made things even worse.

As his advantage slipped away, he sagged down in his chair, wondering what the hell to do next – so lost in self condemnation that he didn't hear David Glennie make that decision for him.

"Well, Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard, that's all I need from you as witnesses. Now, if I may speak to Major Lorne?"

John Sheppard's head shot up again, fiercely protective instincts kicked into instant overdrive. Evan had only been released from the Infirmary that morning, with strict orders to rest. He'd been lucid enough to understand his arrest, but unable to fully remember what he'd done to deserve it. Most of it had come back, but its most crucial parts, like painting those crazy pictures, were still a complete blank.

When John had left him, promising him that he wasn't fighting this alone, he'd just nodded, too upset to reply - staring at the paintings on his bed as if he'd never seen them before. And now, this snake of a psychiatrist wanted to put him through that hell again, before he could fully explain, or defend himself?

To hell with that.

To his horror, Sam Carter had already nodded her agreement, and the doctor was already rising to his feet – hesitating, just for a moment, as two furious eyes sent him a silent, unmistakeable warning.

'_Push him too hard,_ _do anything to hurt him_, _and I will make you regret it._'

Sam Carter had seen it too, and she knew how dangerous John Sheppard could be when he was as angry as this. Hating herself for doing so, she now stepped in to save Glennie from its fury, and Evan Lorne from its consequences.

"Yes, of course. Sergeant Coughlin, if you'd please take Dr Glennie to the Major's quarters?"

As unsuspecting doctor, and subtly smiling escort, left the room, she turned back to John again – meeting the astonishment on his face with a broadening grin, and the subtlest hint of satisfaction.

"Yeah, I can be pretty sneaky too," she said at last, shrugging her shoulders in modest innocence. "Must be a Colonel thing."

"Must be," John agreed, finding it was impossible not to grin too now, at such strategic brilliance. Before coming to Atlantis, Ben Coughlin had been assigned to an equally vital team at the SGC. And heading its fiercely loyal ranks, its leader had just happened to be one Major Evan Lorne.

If anyone could subtly sway Glennie's judgement back in their favour, it was going to be him. Even so, John still wished he'd gone with them. With so much at stake, he hated this idleness.

"I just wish I could be there with him, Sam," he said at last, running his hand through his hair, leaving it even messier than usual. And while Sam wished she could tease him about it, she sadly knew this just wasn't the time. From one anxious friend to another, John Sheppard's next words tore at her heart.

"All those times he's been there, for me, my team, and everyone else on this base. All the times he's saved our lives, and… _damn_ it, Sam, I should be with him!"

"Yes, John, I know. believe me, I feel as bad about this as you do," Sam told him gently, leaning forward to make the point that a tired, stressed, and anxious friend couldn't see for himself. "Just as I know the last place you want, or need, to be right now is _here._"

Yep, _definitely_ a Colonel thing. From one to another, there was instant, silent understanding.

Smiling gratefully back at her, John rose from his seat and left the conference room – brushing up on those stealth tracking skills a bit earlier than planned as he made his way down to Evan's quarters. Unnoticed and undetected, keeping in cover, he arrived just in time to see Glennie's arrival – hoping the voice that he could just hear through the intercom wasn't as defeated as it sounded.

"Yes?"

A few moments later, the door opened, and David Glennie stepped into Evan's quarters. Or, as John saw them, cunning predator, and helpless prey.

As it closed again, John finally emerged from his covert observation, joining Coughlin outside it – knowing, from his expression, that Sam Carter's ingenuity hadn't gone as well as they'd hoped. David Glennie, it seemed, refused to be swayed.

Patting his shoulder, in silent empathy, John felt his eyes drawn, inexorably, to the door behind them. He'd done all he could to help his friend. Now all he could do was pray it had been enough.


	4. Chapter 4 Seeing The Light

The Ties That Bind by catescorner

Well, here we are, with the penultimate chapter. You'll notice that I haven't included any part of the Impressions dialogue. I wasn't sure if the disclaimers here would cover it. And, of course, if you've already listened to it, you already know what happens.

So, in this chapter, I've moved things along pretty quickly, to where the audio book ends. Dr Glennie now understands what Evan did, and the crisis is over, but - well, poor John doesn't know that. And if he doesn't hear the good news soon, Dr Glennie might well be getting another patient!

Enjoy - and thanks again for the very kind reviews!

The Ties That Bind

Chapter Four - Seeing The Light

For the third time in the same minute, John Sheppard glared at his watch in utter frustration. Damn it, why did good news always come quickly, and bad news the eternal opposite?

Glennie had been in Evan's quarters for over two hours now, and its door was still ominously locked. Stuck helplessly outside, John Sheppard was going silently nuts himself. Coughlin had kept him company for as long as he could, before his duties as Evan's temporary replacement called him reluctantly away. Teyla and Ronon had checked in too, before they'd had to do the same - leaving with the same assurance he'd given Sam. As soon as he heard something, he'd call them.

Now it was just him, enduring this damn wait alone. Two hours, six minutes. And still that door refused to budge.

Fed up with staring at his watch, John started pacing the floor again, setting his eyes on a different target. If he could hold his breath for long enough, squeeze himself in, just a little bit, he might _just_ be able to shimmy through that air duct, and – _whoa_! Maybe he wouldn't need to. The door opposite him was starting to move.

Then, at last, it opened completely, and the shrink from hell stepped out into the hallway. To John's amazement, he was smiling, and… oh, thank God! He could see Evan too now, standing slightly behind him. Despite this limited view, John could see that he was smiling as well. Shaking the doctor's hand too. Well, at least he wasn't shaking his neck.

He still looked tired, and pale, but that weary sign of relief lifted a weight from John's shoulders – enough to catapult him across the distance between them, in just a couple of long legged strides. And judging by David Glennie's reaction, his convenient presence there wasn't _entirely_ unexpected.

"Well, Colonel… I'm sorry if you've had to wait rather longer than you'd hoped."

Waving that trivial annoyance away, John placed a brotherly protective hand onto Evan's shoulder. Its message was obvious and, to John's surprise, it brought an approving smile from the doctor, who now seemed to understand its significance.

"You'll have to wait for this officially, Colonel, through the usual channels," he said at last, moving quickly on to explain, before the impatience he could feel simmering beside him could hit full boil. "But before I report to Colonel Carter, I can tell you now that, far from criticizing Major Lorne's actions, I'll be commending them."

As one smile shyly widened, another turned into a '_say what_?' frown of total confusion. From the psychiatrist's past attitude, this was _not_ the outcome that John Sheppard had expected. That went double for the astonishment he felt, and threefold for the relief at what the doctor said next.

"Your executive officer is one of the sanest people I've ever met. He is also one of the bravest. I can see now why you're so proud of him."

Biting back the '_hell_-_I_'_ve_-_been_-_telling_-_you_-_that_-_all_-_along-_' retort that had _almost_ burst out of his throat, John just nodded instead, both in pride for the recognition that Glennie had finally shown, and acceptance for what he said next.

"Contrary to your belief, Colonel, I am _not_ the enemy. I never was. I hope you can understand now that, for Major Lorne's sake in this appraisal, I _had_ to stay completely impartial. Any sign of coercion would have made it completely pointless. And the most important part of my role here was to help Major Lorne remember, completely, what happened to him. To help fill in the gaps, so he could make the connections to prove his sanity."

Clearly used to the chagrined reaction that followed, he then smiled, rather shame facedly, through his own apology.

"But I _can_ understand your loyalty to him, Colonel, and why you've fought so hard to protect him. Until now, I didn't appreciate the bonds that exist here, or their… _uniqueness._"

Another puzzled stare, met this time with quiet laughter as Glennie zipped up his case.

"I'll let the Major explain. I'm sure you'll find his experience as… remarkable as I did."

Nodding now, in much happier agreement, John accepted the extended hand without hesitation. As Evan did the same, and Glennie moved away, he then shook his head, wondering how many guardian angels his second in command had. He just couldn't believe how this seemingly hopeless cause had turned, so completely, on its head.

Judging by the slightly dazed smile on Evan's face, he couldn't quite get to grips with it either. Seeing this, and remembering what he'd just been through, John steered him back into his quarters – sure, as he did so, that he could hear a cheer of relief erupt from the crew's atrium along the hall.

An already proud smile grew wider. Coughlin had come back from his duties, and he hadn't even noticed. The sergeant was clearly as skilled at covert surveillance as he was. And the good news would be spreading through Atlantis already, like a Jumper on hyperdrive.

Even if he hadn't authorised it, he'd thank him for that inspired thinking later, but for now – well, to a big brother's eyes rather than a commanding officer's, he had other priorities to resolve.

Beyond the relief on Evan's face, the trauma of what he'd just been through had still taken a heavy toll. He looked exhausted, leading John to reach the most obvious conclusion, and its solution, in pretty much the same breath.

"Look, if you want to rest up here… you know, just chill for a while, I can come back later."

Smiling at the phrase that Glennie had used to describe him, Evan then shook his head, stacking up the paintings that he'd shown him during their session.

"No, sir, I'm – I'm fine," he insisted, meeting his CO's pointed look with a sheepish grin, for the order it silently sent him.

'_Bed_. _Now_. _And drop the sir_.'

He had no problem obeying that first part. Stretching out on his bed was a welcome feeling to an exhausted body. And within the privacy of his quarters, away from the formality outside it, the second part came easily too.

"Really, John, I'm fine, and… to be honest, the sooner I explain this all to you, the better I'll feel."

"Yeah, I had the feeling you would," John grinned, in relief that his friend had obeyed him without any argument. And when two healthily expectant eyes followed him to the refrigerator, he felt even better. With the crisis now over, he and Evan could just kick back, enjoy a couple of beers, and - okay, maybe not. Yeah, he kept forgetting about that. Junk food, and Evan Lorne, didn't exist in this, or any other dimension.

Pulling a face at the choices in front of him, as always _much_ healthier than his, he picked out two bottles of water. Deciding they _both_ needed the energy, he snagged a handful of power bars too, before retuning to the chair beside Evan's bed.

Waiting until Evan had taken decent mouthfuls of both, he settled into a more comfortable position - keeping his voice quiet, free of all judgement and formality, for what his friend was about to re-live.

"Okay, Evan, in your own time, as much as you can remember. Tell me what happened."

Smiling back at him, Evan took a deep breath, then another, then quietly started to describe the indescribable.

"Well, it all started when I saw the light…"


	5. Chapter 5 Resolutions

The Ties That Bind by catescorner

Well, folks, here we are, at the end of my first multi chapter story. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed it for me. Your comments have all been so encouraging, and I'm delighted that you've enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

I thought it would be nice to finish this angst-fest with John and Evan talking through what's happened, and tying up a troublesome loose end along the way. If you remember Evan's reaction to it, I'm sure you'll know the one I mean! ;o)

With so much for them to talk about, this chapter is quite a bit longer than the others. I was going to post it in smaller instalments, but think it reads better in this single one. So settle back for some more soul searching, and a bit of humour too. Let's face it, after all that angst, the boys need it!

Thanks again for sharing this story with me, and I hope to see you back here soon!

The Ties That Bind

Chapter Five - Resolutions

Dr Glennie had called it remarkable. In John Sheppard's eyes, that was the understatement of all time. He didn't think the word had been invented yet, that would adequately describe what he'd just heard.

To Evan Lorne's relief, though, he'd moved up from a puzzled '_huh_?' to an awestruck '_wow_!' Until he could come up with a better definition, or even a cohesive explanation for what he'd just been through… yeah, he'd settle for that.

"Yeah, that's… uh… pretty much what I thought when I looked through that portal," he said at last, glancing to the balcony outside his quarters, with a yearning that didn't need _any_ kind of definition. It just needed a watchful friend to see, and understand, the need for a simple luxury called freedom.

"Feel like some fresh air?" John asked through a casual, but still privately relieved smile. When Evan grinned up at him, he felt even happier. The eyes were bright again. Clear, and calm.

Just like their city, that friend was at peace now. There'd be no terrifying balcony standoffs today.

As they reached its doors, though, Evan stopped, frowning slightly, as he glanced behind them – meeting concerned eyes with an apologetic shrug for this sudden, impulsive change of plans.

"Actually, what I'd _really_ like right now is a damn good run."

"After all those power bars, I'm not surprised," John grinned, teasingly nudging his stomach. There was enough energy buzzing through his friend now for him to run a marathon. And judging by that glare of priceless payback, a five mile workout had just been upped to six.

Beyond this teasing, though, he already understood his second's need for challenging movement. He'd only been confined to his quarters for a few hours. But for anyone as naturally active as him, those hours of confinement had been tortuously long. And from his own experience of brutal imprisonment, John knew how good the release from it felt.

It was glorious day, too. Bright and sunny. Perfect conditions for their already familiar route. Maybe a bit longer today, he thought dryly. After all, they'd packed away an _awful_ lot of those bars. If they started their workout now, with some decent sprints, they might _just_ run them off by midnight.

Before they started, though, he needed a quick detour to his own quarters for another covert mission. A last act that would bring his friend's ordeal, and the fears he hadn't admitted yet, to a final close.

"I'll… uh, meet you down there in ten, okay? I just need to get changed," he said at last, slyly relieved to see that Evan had accepted his request with a nod of more genuine innocence. His friend's intuition made him an invaluable XO, but right now, John needed it to be a little… _off_. He needed to keep the _real_ reason for that detour hidden, until the right time came to reveal it.

Ten minutes later, the top pocket of his shirt securely zipped, he rejoined Evan on the south pier – dryly noting that his friend, jogging lightly on the spot to loosen himself up, was just raring to go. Setting out for the pier-bridge at a brisk, cobweb-clearing jog, John just hoped he could keep up.

It was mid afternoon now, and the public areas were full of other people, enjoying the warm sunshine. As they approached, John felt a tug of wary concern, for how they'd react to Evan's appearance. The successive events that had led to his near psychotic meltdown were still the talk of the station – speculation over what he'd seen, and experienced, forgetting the still vulnerable humanity beyond.

After what he'd just been through, he didn't want Evan to face that kind of whispering scrutiny. These people had to remember that Evan Lorne was a human being, not some kind of freakish exhibit.

Those fears proved thankfully unfounded, though, as cheers of relieved approval erupted around them. It was an instant, heartfelt show of support. Proof, if it was ever needed, of just how popular he was. And beyond his '_aw_, _hell_…' groan of embarrassment, there was no hiding how much it meant to him.

Maybe he'd felt uneasy too, at the thought of facing them, but Evan was smiling again now – returning those cheers with a shyly appreciative wave as they continued their run onto the bridge.

When he slowed down, though, just beyond it, John knew it wasn't just for them to catch their breath. Maybe it was this genetic link between them but sometimes they could almost read each other's minds. Evan's face, too, had always been an expressive giveaway. And John could read it like a book now. That show of cheering support had brought it all back, and his friend needed to talk again. Seriously.

He'd come to a full stop now, and was leaning on the pier rail, staring back at the crowds behind them. Doing the same, supportively close beside him, John waited patiently for him to break the silence, his eyes widening in surprise at the quiet voice, and unexpectedly cynical words, that finally did so.

"Jeez, they're treating me like some kind of hero. I wish to God I felt like one."

Thrown, completely, by this change in mood, John stared at his friend in puzzled, renewed concern. He'd thought that Evan had come to terms with what he'd been through, but… well, apparently not. Wondering when this damn nightmare would end for him, for _them_, he then sighed in silent frustration – waiting until one of the bravest people he'd ever met found the courage to finally defeat it.

Against his impulsive nature, patience had never been one of John Sheppard's greatest strengths. When he had to be, though, he had a depthless supply, with the supportive compassion to match. And when it came to helping a friend in trouble, like the one who still sat, so quietly, beside him – well, if it brought Evan Lorne through the rest of this nightmare, he had all the time in the world.

"I just wish I knew _why_, John. Why, out of everyone else in this city, it connected itself to _me._"

Okay, not _quite_ the opening he'd expected, but… hell, right now, John was still happy to take it. If it could get them talking again, bring this damn thing to an end, he'd take any opening he could, even if it flew at him from left field, and whacked him on the head.

"Because it knew you had the unique ability to help it," he said at last, offering his friend his own, proud twist to the explanation that Dr Glennie had given him earlier. "Kate thinks it somehow recognized your skills as an artist, and used you as… well, a conduit, so it could communicate through those paintings. It knew you'd understand, and… well, that you were brave and resourceful enough to save its life."

He was as proud of his friend as he'd sounded. Unfortunately, Evan still didn't think he deserved it.

"I didn't feel like that at the time, John. Believe me, I didn't feel brave at all," he said quietly, taking a deep breath, fighting past still raw memories of the events that had almost killed him. "From that first blackout, through everything else that followed… almost bleeding out in Kate's office, falling off that balcony, that - that stand off in the Gate Room… God, John, I was terrified."

"Yeah, I can imagine," John agreed just as quietly, slipping a gentle arm across his shoulders – knowing the fear _he_'_d_ felt must have been immeasurably worse for the friend who'd been powerless to control it. And as it had done, so many times before, Evan's thoughts followed his with startling accuracy.

"Everything I've ever cared about was slipping away from me, and… and I – I just couldn't stop it. I could see what I was doing, holding that gun on you, and the others, and I - I just couldn't control what I was doing."

Feeling a tremor run through Evan's body, John steered him gently to a more sheltered part of the pier. They'd lost the benefit of the sun anyway, suddenly chillier air adding to this drop in Evan's mood.

They still had difficult things to talk about, too, and he when they came to face them, he wanted his friend to be as comfortable as possible. Beyond their relationship, professional and otherwise, he was talking brother to brother now – trying to find some common ground to work on, and silently furious when he realized he couldn't.

"I wish I could say I understood, Evan. I wish I could say that I know what you went through," he said at last, the voice that could throw out quips and one liners out all day as serious now, and supportive, as it had to be. "I know I've come close a few times, been possessed by _my_ share of alien entities, but… no, both of us know, I can't understand what _you_'_ve_ just been through. You've seen things that not even McKay can start to explain."

That won him a wry smile, and a less cynical flash of humour, as Evan shrugged his shoulders.

"I can't explain them either, John. And _I_'_m_ the one who saw them."

Another opening, that gave John Sheppard his greatest insight yet into his friend's state of mind – thankfully calmer than it had been before, but still bugged by questions he just couldn't answer. But if they tackled them _together_, as the unbeatable team they were - yeah, they might just find them.

"Is that what's bothering you? This inability to explain what you saw?" he asked gently, relieved to see Evan nodding through another shrug of admission, but knowing there was more to it, _much_ more, than that. So it was even more of a relief when Evan smiled, a sure sign that he was ready to start talking again.

"Well, yeah, but… you know the worst thing, John? It's already starting to fade," he said at last, clearly frustrated that such a profound event in his life would evade his need to fully understand it. "In a few days, it'll be gone completely, and all I'll have to show for it are paintings that won't make sense."

'_Join the club_… _they didn_'_t_ _make sense to me in the first place._'

Keeping that thought tactfully to himself, John smiled instead, until he could offer a better reply.

"Are you going to keep them?"

A simple enough question, but it took Evan several seconds to think through his answer. To John's relief, he finally smiled back and nodded, with calmer resolve settling back into his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm – I'm gonna keep them. But I'm _never_ gonna show them to my mom."

John smiled too, if rather more slyly, as the friends settled back to enjoy the sun's returning warmth. He knew where those fretting thoughts would eventually lead, but… no, not yet. The time wasn't right. And for what he had planned, the timing _had_ to be right. Evan's friendship was too vital, too precious, for him to make that move too soon. And while Evan's thoughts were still on a more serious path, he seemed slightly more settled.

Leaning against the pier behind them, arms wrapped around his knees, he was staring up at the sky – in wistful memory of what he'd seen there, just days ago, and acceptance for what he saw there now.

"That's where I saw it, John. The door to new worlds, another _incredible_ universe," he said at last, sighing once more, as he tried to remember, and describe, the breathtaking worlds he'd seen inside it. "It – It was _so_ beautiful, a place I can never hope to describe, and now… now I just see clouds."

"…but clouds with silver linings… right?" John pointed out with a gently prompting smile – one that widened, in relief, for the breakthrough of clear eyes, a calmly familiar smile, and a nod of unprompted agreement. They were getting there. Slowly, sometimes _frustratingly_ slowly. But they _were_ getting there.

Another, more companionable silence settled in between them. This time, though, it was John who quietly broke it.

"You know, Dr Glennie was right, for sticking to your guns like that. I don't say it, Evan, as often as I maybe should, but… yeah, I'm proud of you."

When Evan just shrugged, John sighed too, his smile fading slightly. He knew how much his friend wanted to believe him. He just needed another brotherly prod to get him there. To get him over this final hurdle, and into the home straight.

"Hey, even if you might never make sense of it, Evan, you saved that child's life," he went on, giving Evan's shoulder a gentle shake, making sure he had his full attention for what he said next. "However scary it was, _you_ saved a lifeform from another universe. You should be proud of that."

_That_ got his attention. Despite the smile on his face, though, Evan's reply was still tellingly quiet.

"Proud of that, yes. Of course I am. But proud of the _way_ I did it? Going it alone, against _you_? Against _all_ my training?"

It had been a painful admission for him to make. One that still reflected through his next, softly bitter words. "No, Dr Glennie was right. I should have come to you, or Kate, or Keller, as soon as it started."

Shamed regret, for something that he could do nothing now to change, was written all over his face. So was another memory. One that made John Sheppard's mouth start to tug knowingly upwards. Oh yeah, here it came.

"And what I said when Kate put me under hypnosis. Man, when _that_ gets out, I'll _never_ live it down."

Wincing at the memory, he then sighed, trying to joke through his obvious, and real, embarrassment.

"Maybe I should requisition myself a nice big sleeping bag, and cut out a couple of eyeholes. Or just go on a real long camping trip."

To his surprise, his CO, friend, and surrogate brother, thought that was funnier than he did. He was smiling now, a gleeful '_I_-_know_-_something_-_you_-_don_'_t_' grin as he reached into his pocket.

At last. The right opening had finally come, for the moment he'd been looking forward to all day. After seeing the genuine embarrassment it had caused his friend… oh yeah, he was going to enjoy it.

"So you're worried about this?" he asked, holding a small memory card out in front of them – keeping his amusement tactfully silent as Evan dropped his head down onto his arms, and groaned in horrified realization.

"Aww, _jeez._ Ronon… hell, _anybody_… just shoot me now."

"Oh, I don't think it'll come to that. And you won't need that sleeping bag either," John grinned – finding it impossible not to laugh now, but quietly, as the tousled head beside him kept shaking in miserable denial.

"I mean, only five people know about it. And there's just _one_ copy, that I just _happen_ to have here."

There was something in his tone now, that made Evan raise his head again, and stare back at him – a cautious smile growing wider, in more hopeful realization, as he tossed the card from one hand to another.

"So if it were to… oh, I don't know, catch a gust of wind while we're talking here, and… _oooops!__"_

As that tiny piece of incriminating shame sailed into the water, John stared where it had fallen – his eyes wide, his expression shocked, and the regret on his face a study of guilty contrition.

"Aww, _damn_! Butterfingers me."

For ten clear seconds, Evan stared at his commanding officer as if he'd suddenly grown an extra head. Caught between wild relief, and by the book protocols, he met each of them halfway, in a mortified protest.

"That – That was part of my medical file!"

Another broken rule, to go with those he'd already violated, but… well, his CO didn't seem to mind. Instead, he blinked back at him, a study of innocence – his reaction, when it finally came, anything but.

"It _was_? Aww, _bummer_!"

As Evan continued to stare at him, the grin grew to its full devilish strength, into its universally notorious smirk. He'd pay for this. He _knew_ he'd pay for this, but… yeah, like he could _ever_ walk away from it.

"Hey, if you want to dive in to get it back, be my guest."

Okay, now he'd sprouted _two_ heads, complete with ever appropriate devil horns. And this time, Evan stared at him for twenty, speechless seconds. Then his shoulders started to shake as something wonderful, and totally unstoppable, burst out of him. Seconds later, he'd joined his CO in fits of laughter. Convulsive hysterics that left both of them almost on their backs, shaking too hard to move.

Anyone who saw them would have been forgiven for thinking that both of them had lost their minds. Some might have been tempted to call David Glennie back to the city for two more appraisals – fearing that _both_ its military commanders had been out in the sun too long, and baked their brains.

But John Sheppard didn't care, and Evan Lorne… hell, he didn't care either. He didn't care a bit. This was the release that he'd really needed, that he'd needed all along. All the tension and terror from the last few days came pouring out of him, in tears of glorious laughter.

And when it finally ended, he could feel another, joyous voice ghost through his consciousness. A voice that made him look up again, to that very special place, for one final, heartfelt connection.

\Thank you…/

Under proudly watching eyes, Evan Lorne's face lit up into a full, carefree smile. After days of personal and professional crisis, he knew exactly what to say.

\No… thank _you_…/


End file.
